Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy...
Submissive to everything, open, listening...
Something that you feel will find its own form.
--Jack Kerouac, from "Belief and Technique for Modern Prose"

June 14, 2009

olfactory zones, jelly glass wine, cabaraoke

1. Freestanding olfactory zones:• the highway underpass intersection saturated with the stench of bat guano –- even blindfolded, I’d know where to turn onto the road for the gym• the armpit of the men’s locker room -– a corner with a permanent funk of body odor when no one’s there• the top shelf of my kitchen cupboard, amid the olive oil and vinegar and sesame oil and soy sauce, that always smells of lavender soap

2. Dinner: Australian shiraz in a jelly glass* – I opened the bottle a couple of days ago, it’s a little sour, Passovery – and pipe rigate with thawed meat sauce that I compiled incrementally from the leftovers of previous meat sauces. Fantastico!

3. In black block letters on the back of a yellow taxi: “CABARAOKE” -– a cab in which the passenger is encouraged to sing to a karaoke tape. I investigate no further.

*Bonne Maman brand invaluable for this purpose –- not only attractive glasses, but the best preserves